


Ghosts in Her Bones

by passing-fanciful (kageygirl)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, The Jolly Roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageygirl/pseuds/passing-fanciful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian's not as happy about the reunion as Emma expected him to be.</p>
<p>Spoilers for "Poor Unfortunate Soul."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts in Her Bones

The first time she asks, she's still reeling through a haze of giddy disbelief about the whole _being his happy freaking ending_ thing. "So," she says, her elbow threaded through his as they walk, her chin rubbing at the shoulder of his jacket, "wanna show me around your ship?"

She tries to make it as leading as possible, but she's clearly still not any good at it. The look he gives her is less "consumed with lusty possibilities" and more "fondly admonishing." "You know I'm delighted to spend time with you, love," he says, the glow in his eyes backing up his words, "but now that we know the Dark One has inimical plans for you, best be on our guard."

"Fine," she says, and it's a little petulant, because she really, _really_ wants some alone time with her pirate.

"Perhaps another time," he says, with enough dirty insinuation to tell her that if they're not on the same page, it's just because he refuses to skip ahead with her. He tugs her to a stop and kisses her, slow and sweet and devastating, until she only remembers her own name when he breathes it out in wonder.

* * *

She forgets about the ship for a while, what with everything going to hell around them. Until the night she finds herself in need of some air, and he finds her down at the docks, staring pensively at the gangplank.

"You know, you still haven't invited me aboard," she says, examining the bright yellow trim, the neatly tied lines.

"It hasn't been the right time," he says quietly--and it hasn't, he's right, but it's more than that. She turns to examine _him_ , somber and guarded.

It's not just that he hasn't invited her aboard. As far as she knows, he hasn't been here himself since they towed it to the pier; he's still staying at Granny's, and he's never mentioned the _Jolly Roger_ , not once, not even in passing.

She's sick to death of secrets, and it makes her words sharp. "Killian, is there a reason you're avoiding your ship?"

He looks at her for a long moment--long enough that they both know a denial would fall flat, even if she couldn't read him so well. Long enough that she can tell that he's looking to explain, not evade.

He finally shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment before meeting hers. "I've done many a dark deed aboard my ship, Swan," he says, so softly that his words are almost lost in the lapping of waves against wood. "The last time I reunited with her, I traded Ariel's happy ending in order to keep her. With Ursula, I was aboard my vessel for mere moments, and I slid into old habits with hardly a pause." He glances up at the ship, eyes trailing up the masts, before looking back at her. "I fear she's haunted by my mistakes."

She closes the distance between them, resting a hand on his shoulder. Beneath the leather, he's tense; she aches to hold him close. "You helped save Henry with this ship."

"Aye," he says, with the ghost of a smile, though it vanishes as soon as it appears. "But that hardly balances the scales." He looks back at her, his face lined with regret and desperation, and it _hurts_ to see him like this. "You've no idea the man I was when I captained her. I don't want to be that man again."

He seems so lost, and she's not sure how to help him. "Here I thought you weren't afraid of anything," she says, trying to jolt some bravado back into him.

"I've no fear for myself, love." He covers her hand with his own, pulling it free to press a kiss to her knuckles. "But I'll not run the risk of hurting anyone else."

His words are a familiar echo, and she presses her lips together as she searches for the right thing to say. "Look, I know it's not exactly the same thing," she says, finally. "But that's how I felt when my magic was out of control. Get rid of it, before I did something that couldn't be fixed." His hand tightens on hers, and she regrets reminding him of that fear, but she needs to make the point. "But getting rid of it wasn't the answer. I had to accept it. And I've been on the receiving end of enough weird nautical metaphors--" she gives him a quick smile, "--to know that being a sailor is part of you. This ship, your _past_ , it's a part of you." 

She brings her free hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, stroking his neck, her fingers restless with the need to _reach_ him. "And if you want my help accepting that, all of it, I'm right here." She slides her hand down to his chest, over his heart, the one she'd held in her hands. "Because I've already accepted all of you, Killian."

He searches her face, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "I truly don't deserve you, Emma."

There are scary words on the tip of her tongue, but every day, she gets a little bit braver. She's not quite there yet, though, so she threads her fingers through his, squeezing hard, even though his rings bite into her fingers. Remembering his words when she'd opened up her past to him, she nods at the ship and asks, "May I have the honor?"

He dips his head. "The honor is mine," he says, and his voice sounds suspiciously rough. She doesn't call him on it, just squeezes his hand again, and they walk up the gangplank together.


End file.
